She hung her wet coat on the peg and slid into the end booth. Her heart still racing, she ordered a drink. “What am I going to do?” she cried the words to herself. Closing her eyes, she tried to calm herself. She pulled her knapsack closer, with trembling hands, she reached inside. Her fingers crept past her book, past her sweater. “Please let this be a nightmare” she whispered in desperation. Her fingers touched the cold metal and recoiled. The reality hurt, yet calmed her. It was true, she’d killed him. Drinking deeply, she sighed. The abuse was over.
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